


Three Summers

by sesh_khem



Category: Star Trek: 2009
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesh_khem/pseuds/sesh_khem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><b>Disclaimer: </b>I sadly do not own anything remotely related to Star Trek. Except a fake tribble.</p><p><b>A/N: </b>Thanks to Miranda River for her patient help as beta!</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Camping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Disclaimer:** I sadly do not own anything remotely related to Star Trek. Except a fake tribble.
> 
>  **A/N:** Thanks to Miranda River for her patient help as beta!

**Chapter 1: Camping**   


After Spock's first year at Starfleet Academy, he and his mother agreed that it would be best for him to stay on Earth. It was still too soon for Spock and Sarek to share the same house for any length of time. Amanda joined him for a few weeks and they visited various relatives throughout the United States of America. She left him at her sister's house near Seattle for the remainder of the summer, feeling it important that he got to know his human cousins.

His aunt and cousins tried to draw him out of his shell. They planned day trips, ordered special vids that he might like. For all their efforts, he seemed the most content with his nose in a book. The only thing that seemed to pique his interest more was the occasional game of chess with his uncle.

Oh, he was perfectly polite, helpful around the house (Vulcan strength came in handy when moving furniture), and tried to show interest in his family. They were simply too different.

His older cousin, Cheryl, was an athletic blond with green eyes and almost as tall as her Vulcan cousin. She tried running with Spock occasionally, but he got up so early and ran twice as fast and as far as she, so she gave up on that attempt at family bonding.

She tried asking him about his reading, but it was always something technical and she was a literature major.

She walked into her parents room one night and flopped on their bed. "I've tried and I've tried, but I just can't believe I'm related to him!"

"Cheryl, you may not see it, but he's trying. You know what he's been through, the rift with his father, his first year on Earth. This is a new world to him in so many ways."

"Well, it's not right that someone two years younger than me can be so mature. It's annoying."

Her father chuckled. "I find it refreshing. Spending time with him, I find it hard to believe you're 20!"

Cheryl stuck her tongue out at her father. "Well, Anyway, I'm really here to let you know next week I'm going camping with some friends from college..."

Her mother never let her finish. "Why don't you take Spock along, hon. He enjoys the outdoors."

"Mom, no, please! He's such a bookworm! Don't make me babysit!"

"I'm not asking you to babysit. He is, as we all know, a self-sufficient being. If he could withstand 10 days in the desert of Vulcan with no supplies as a 7-year-old, he can certainly survive a week camping with a bunch of college students."

Cheryl turned to her father. "Dad?"

"I think it's a good idea, personally. Just ask him; he might not want to go."

"Geez!" She left in a huff.

At 5 am, Spock went for his morning run. He came home and showered, wrapped a towel around himself and exited the bathroom he shared with his cousins. As he rounded the corner to his bedroom he ran right into Cheryl.

"My apologies, cousin," he said. Cheryl stepped back, sleepy eyes now wide open, surveying the half-naked half-Vulcan before her.

He was confused, and looked down. His towel was still in place. What could she be so intent on?

"Dude! You're built!"

"I beg your pardon?"

She laughed, "Sorry, Spock! I'm just surprised is all. You are in great shape for a..."

"A bookworm?" He said with an upturned brow and an almost smirk.

"Oh, geez, Spock, you heard that?"

"You forget...the ears."

"Damnit, Spock, I'm sorry about that. Look, please come camping with me and my friends...let me make it up to you."

He thought about it a moment, "I would like to go camping with you."

A week later, she and Spock were driving to the state park where they'd meet her friends. He looked over at her. "Cousin, please be assured that you do not need to entertain me. I have books with me, and as I sleep less than humans, I may wish to take nighttime hikes."

"Hiking at night? When you don't know the trails? That's dangerous Spock. Not a good idea."

"You forget, my vision is superior to a human's."

"Is that how you see yourself, as superior to us?"

"My vision, reflexes, strength, hearing, and memory are all superior to a human's. But that does not make me a superior being.

She thought about that for a moment. "I like you, Spock."

"And you are a satisfactory cousin."

She laughed. She was starting to get her weird relative.

They arrived at the park and met Cheryl's friends. Chad, her boyfriend, had dark athletic good looks. Lacy was a petite brunette with dark brown skin, and her boyfriend, Mike, had Nordic coloring and a forehead that put Spock in mind of a Romulan. Finally there was Sandra, Cheryl's roommate, a young woman with dark almond-shaped eyes. Cheryl told Spock on their drive that Sandra had recently broken up with her boyfriend, so she was glad Spock was with them; Sandra wouldn't feel like a fifth wheel.

They all hoisted their packs to their backs, and Spock offered to carry some of the heavier items so they wouldn't have to make a second trip.

As the guys hit the trail first, Cheryl pulled Sandra aside. "Not that I'm suggesting anything...but Spock's really quite hot under the chilly surface." She winked. Sandra shook her head and smiled. And they made their way to the campsite.

After the tents were set up, Spock helped build the fire. Preparation of the evening meal began, and Spock brought water from the river for his soup. The others made burgers and and baked beans. As he chopped his vegetables, he noticed the large distance between the tents. It dawned on him that the couples intended to sleep together, and he and Sandra would have the two smaller tents to themselves.

After the meal, alcoholic beverages were passed around the campfire. Mike brought out his guitar. Cheryl tried to bring her cousin into the conversation. "Spock, did you really survive 10 days in the desert when you were a kid?"

"Yes, all Vulcan children go through this trial."

"How old were you?" asked Mike.

"Seven Terran years." They all gasped.

He understood that his cousin was trying to include him, and having spent nearly a year on Earth, understood the crowd was waiting now for an "anecdote."

"Vulcan is a harsh planet," he explained. "Survival skills are taught early as a necessity. But there are physical, cultural, and spiritual aspects to the ritual. It is, as you say, a rite of passage. Forgive me, we do not speak of it. You already know more about it than most humans."

"Dude!" said Chad. "That's deep!" Spock realized that he was the only one there who was not nearing inebriation. He had accepted a beer, not disliking the taste, but it had no effect on him.

He listened as the friends talked and sang amongst themselves, and watched with curiosity as the couples became more and more demonstrative in their affections. He also noticed Sandra's dark eyes seemed focused solely on him. This brought an unusual sensation, not wholly unwelcome, but discomfiting. As they planned an early start, he excused himself and went to his tent. Soon he heard Sandra retire as well.

He lay still until approximately one hour after the others retreated to their tents. He rose, bringing a blanket and a small packet of incense. He seated himself before the fire, his back to the tents, threw the incense onto the coals and began his meditation. The sounds of tree frogs and cicadas, the whisper of the light wind through the trees, all somehow made his meditation more grounded. He found his center quickly, and after only two hours, arose completely refreshed from the experience.

He returned to his tent and slept until dawn. The others were not yet awake so he donned swim trunks and went for a quick swim in the river. As he swam, he noted a sense of heightened well-being. If he were human, he might have said he was enjoying himself.

He turned back to the shore to see Sandra standing there, wrapped in a blanket. "Good morning," he greeted her as he rose from the water.

"Good morning, Spock" she said. He noticed she regarded his body with surprise and something else he could not name. He assumed it was just curiosity.

"Are the others awake?" He asked.

"No, I heard the splashing and decided to investigate."

Spock dried himself. "I will dress and prepare the fire."

"Sounds good. I'll help get breakfast started."

When he emerged from his tent, she had the fruit and bread and jam out and ready. He quickly started the fire and she put on the kettle for hot water. The others soon sleepily joined them.

"Everybody ready to hit the trail?"asked Chad.

Sleepy mumbles answered him. He laughed. "C'mon...eat up, we've got 10 miles ahead of us."

The hike was invigorating. Spock of course slowed his pace to allow the others to keep up. But the fresh air, the unfamiliar landscape of the Washington mountains, and even the conversation among his companions were enjoyable.

They took frequent breaks (at least frequent for a Vulcan) rehydrating and often taking pictures of each other. They stopped for lunch at cove in the river where the water was still. As they swam then dried themselves in the sun, Spock caught himself taking too much notice of Sandra and her bathing suit. The hikers ate lunch and got back on the trail.

When they reached their destination they set up camp. Sandra assisted him gathering wood.

"Spock, do you like living on Earth?" she asked.

"I neither like nor dislike it," he answered.

"Is it very different from Vulcan?"

"Vulcan is arid. We seldom have rain."

"Ah," she said, trying to think of more questions.

"We have a sufficient supply of wood," Spock said. "Shall we return?" he headed for the campsite.

"Not yet," she said, setting down her basket of kindling. "I mean, you go on. I think I'll sit here for a few minutes."

He regarded her. "Are you unwell?"

She smiled sadly. "I'm fine. I'm just not in the mood for being with the happy couples right now."

He looked confused, but after a moment he put down his armload of wood and sat with her.

"I believe," he said "you and I are the fifth and sixth wheels on the excursion."

She laughed. "Yes, well, it would have been worse if you hadn't come along."

"I am afraid I am not the most engaging companion for you," he said apologetically.

"No! That's so not true! I think you are fascinating, I just am always afraid I'll ask a stupid question or say or do something offensive."

"Do not concern yourself," he said.

"Thank you." She smiled. "Ready to go back?"

"Yes." They gathered up the wood and returned to the campsite.

After dinner, Mike pulled out his guitar again and Cheryl produced a bag of marshmallows, graham crackers, and Hershey bars. As the others opened more cans of beer, Sandra explained that they would roast the marshmallows on sticks over the fire, place them between two crackers and add a piece of chocolate to create "s'mores." Spock regarded the messy enterprise with distaste, but agreed to try it in order to have the chocolate. He had never purposely ingested the intoxicant before and was pleased to have an opportunity. He nursed his one s'more while the others had seconds and thirds.

The sensation was pleasing. He felt a relaxing warmth flow through his body. He found he was tapping his feet to the tune Mike played. He suddenly wished Sandra was a little closer.

Sandra noticed he'd had only one of the messy desserts. "Spock, would you like another?"

"No," he said regarding her. "Chocolate is an intoxicant for my people. I do not wish to get drunk."

"You're kidding me. Chocolate?"

He nodded. The others were singing loudly. "Sandra, I have noticed you staring at me. Am I so different?"

He sounded almost hurt. "No! Spock, I..." she leaned in to whisper. "I find you attractive, Spock. I am sorry if I've made you uncomfortable."

"I am not uncomfortable." he declared. "I am pleased."

"Really?"

"Yes. The feeling is mutual."

Thank God for s'mores, she thought. She huddled up in the blanket around her shoulders as she considered her next words.

"Spock, would you like to take a walk with me later? When the others go to bed?"

"Yes," he said after a moment, and then, "I think I will have another s'more."

The gathering around the campfire couldn't disperse soon enough for him. He was determined to engage in the Terran custom of kissing. Surprising, since this became an imperative only after ingesting the chocolate. He did not, however, waste much thought on that fact.

When the group did break up for the night, the others didn't notice that Spock and Sandra did not walk to their tents but headed for the river instead.

Spock put up his mental shields and reached for her hand. "May I?" he asked. She placed her hand in his. He drew her to him and whispered, "I have never done this before."

She reached up and pulled his face closer, gently touching his lips with hers. She drew back, giving him a moment before kissing him again, harder now. She felt him respond. She deepened the kiss, parting his lips with her tongue. She felt his surprise, but he was proving a fast learner. She pulled away, took the blanket from around her shoulders and placed it on the mossy river bank. They lay there in the light of the half moon, their kisses growing more passionate.

She took his hand and placed it on her breast. He drew a breath in surprise, but nature took over and his hand moved confidently as he kissed her again. Soon, she took off her top, and helped him remove his. She unclasped her bra and his hands and eyes and lips explored her. He inferred from the sounds she made that he was doing this correctly.

He noted the tightness in his trousers and tried unsuccessfully to will it away. She whispered, "Spock, do you want to make love to me?"

"Yes," he answered, but logic took over. "Sandra, I do not wish to dishonor you. I understand that humans view sexual relations differently, but I do not want there to be misunderstanding between us."

She grinned as she unzipped and removed her jeans. "I'm not looking for a relationship or marriage or anything if that's what you're worried about." She stood before him in only her underwear. The bulge in his pants began to throb. "I just broke up with someone, Spock. While I have physical desires, my heart is in no shape for anything more. When we leave the mountain in a few days we will say goodbye and go back to our lives. Okay?"

"Understood." And he removed his trousers as she kissed and licked his chest.

She showed him what to do, told him what felt good, slowed him when he was too fast. Considering it was his first time, his performance was admirable. He wasn't the best lover she'd ever had, but he certainly wasn't the worst.

After, as they lay rolled up in the blanket, he asked, "Was that satisfactory?"

She giggled, "That was better than satisfactory, Spock. But it's cold. Let's go back."

They dressed and walked to the campsite. "Bring your sleeping bag in here," she whispered. He complied.

As they settled in her tent he told her, "I do not sleep as long as humans. Will you be offended if I leave you in the morning to meditate?"

"No," she replied sleepily. "Just as long as you are here now."

As the next day wore on, he pretended to ignore the smug looks on his new friends' faces. Cheryl found him alone at one point and said, "I'm glad you two hooked up. I wanted you both to have a good time on this trip."

He regarded his cousin with an upturned brow, "If by 'hooked up' and 'good time' you mean sex, then yes, we have done so."

She laughed and gave him a playful jab in the ribs. "Good for you, Bookworm!"

Sandra was a patient teacher. Spock had learned more about the human female than he thought possible, not to mention about his own body. He was pleased to note in his brief telepathic contact that Sandra had no romantic feelings for him.

When they said goodbye, she kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for a wonderful week, Spock."

"Thank you, Sandra, for an enlightening experience."

She laughed, and joined Lacy and Mike for the ride home.

The rest of the summer held no more adventure. Spock grew more comfortable around his human family. When the time came to go, he was ready to return to the Academy.

The whole family insisted on accompanying him to the transport station. He steeled himself for his uncles handshake and his aunt's concerned hugs and kisses. Cheryl stepped up to him.

"I'm going to kiss you, cuz. Prepare yourself!"

He sighed the sigh of the long suffering and said, "Proceed."

She laughed and gave him a hearty peck on the cheek. "Take care, Spock!"

"Live long and prosper, cousin," and he saluted them all as the transporter beam took him.

* * *


	2. Swimming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The character, Leila, is from the TOS ep, "This Side of Paradise"

Three Summers

Chapter 2: Swimming

It was Spock's second year as an instructor at Starfleet Academy. The students were gone for the summer and he had various projects, including the specifications for the Enterprise's science labs. Research, work, and spending time with Captain Christopher Pike, his mentor and friend, filled his hours satisfactorily.

But Chris Pike had another plan for Spock in July. The plan's name was Leila.

Pike introduced them after a staff meeting. "Spock, do you remember Leila Kalomi? She was a year behind you at the Academy."

Spock regarded the petite blond. "I am afraid not, Captain. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Commander Spock, I remember you," she smiled. "Three graduate degrees in the time it takes the average human to achieve one? Most impressive!"

"May I ask what brings you back to the Academy?"

"Leila here has a grant to study various agricultural techniques," said the Captain.

"I'm trying to find what techniques work for different planetary types after terraforming for potential colonies. Starfleet has been kind enough to allow me the facilities to do some data mining."

"A fascinating and useful line of research. I wish you well in your endeavors." Spock nodded once and made for the door. But the captain grabbed his arm.

"Spock and I are off to the pub. Care to join us, Leila?"

"Thank you, I think I will. Do you mind waiting while I drop my briefcase off at my quarters?"

"Not at all, we'll meet you at the gate."

"See you soon," she said as she hurried off.

Spock looked at his friend. "This is another attempt to engage me in a romantic relationship." It was not a question.

Pike winced momentarily at how easily Spock read him. "You need to have a little fun, Spock. You spend every waking hour working. You need to develop relationships. Especially if you want to be an effective captain one of these days."

"I fail to see how engaging in human courtship rituals will make me a better captain."

Pike knew he'd never win this long-standing argument based on logic. He merely said, "Trust me," and headed for the Academy gates.

Leila and Spock sat at a booth while Pike ordered their drinks at the bar.

"So," Leila began, "You're an instructor these days."

"Yes."

"What do you teach?"

"I am in the Computer Sciences division. I do, however, assist in the Xenolinguistics and Xenobotany departments as well."

Pike appeared with their drinks. "Don't tell me you two are talking about work."

"Just catching up, Captain," Leila smiled.

"Please, call me Chris."

"Well, Chris, Spock was just telling me of the various subjects he teaches."

"The Academy is lucky to have him here, even if for only a few years."

Leila turned to Spock. "Why only a few years?"

"Chris and I served aboard the Endeavor for a year. Upon our return we both accepted temporary teaching positions in addition to advising Starfleet on the new class of starships."

"Ah, so you'll be going back to the stars soon."

"That is my hope."

Pike's communicator chirped. "Excuse me," he said rising.

Leila took a sip of her drink. She smiled and leaned forward. "Spock, when we were students, did you have any idea that you had dozens of admirers?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Indeed, I did not." That was not entirely true. His roommate had said something to that effect. Spock had assumed he was joking, but he was far too busy, far too focused to find out if it were true.

"Every girl on campus sighed when you walked by."

"I was unaware that I caused any discomfort..."

She looked at her glass that she twirled with her fingers and in a lower voice said "I think it was the fact that you were unaware that made you all the more attractive."

He was spared the necessity of a reply when the captain returned. "I'm sorry, you two. I have to get going. Duty calls."

"Is there anything wrong?" asked Spock.

"No, nothing I can't handle."

Spock rose. "Is there any way I can assist?"

"No, but thanks, Spock. You two have fun. I'll see you tomorrow."

Spock resumed his seat.

Leila looked at her drink. "Why do I have the feeling that this is a set-up?"

"Because it is," said Spock. "Dr. Kalomi..."

"Leila, please."

"Leila, I apologize for the captain's transparent attempt at 'setting us up.' He believes that everyone should have...fun, and that I, in particular, need to 'loosen up.'"

"Look, Spock ... I'm only here for two months, and you are the only familiar face in town. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, perhaps spend time with. That is, if you think you'd enjoy it."

He did not think he would not enjoy it.

"That would be agreeable," he said, and after a moment added "There is an establishment nearby that features jazz musicians. Would you care to attend a performance this weekend?"

She smiled. "Yes, I'd love to."

He nodded. Chris would be pleased.

Before his "date," Chris stopped by his quarters and advised him on his wardrobe. Spock sighed and let his friend pick his attire for the evening.

"Okay, that looks good. Wear that shirt with these trousers. Wait, hang on. No, these trousers. Yes."

Spock began to change.

"Do you have any aftershave or cologne?"

"No," said Spock.

"Pity. Oh well, let's see you."

Chris smiled and slapped him on the back. "You'll have her falling at your feet, my friend."

"Why would I wish...?"

"Figure of speech, Spock. Go on, pick up your date and have a good time."

Spock arrived at Leila's designated quarters and rang. She opened the door. "Hello, Spock."

"Good evening. Are you ready to proceed?"

"Yes, let's go."

Spock was aware that she wore her hair very differently. Her floral print dress was almost as short as the female Starfleet uniform. Additionally, she smelled different. Whatever scent she wore tickled his nose in a not unpleasant manner.

The pair made their way to the shuttle. Now, he assumed, he must engage in "small talk."

"Leila, may I ask, what are your plans after your research is completed?"

"Well, first I'll try to get my research published. After that, there is a new colony planned for Omicron Ceti III, and I've been accepted as a part of the initial team. I'll have a chance to put my research into practice."

"It will be rewarding to witness your work in progress."

"Yes, I'm very excited about it."

Spock had made reservations at a restaurant not far from the jazz club. Once they were seated, he realized he'd exhausted his scant supply of conversational topics. Fortunately Leila made up for his deficiency. With their common interest in botany, they had plenty to talk about.

During the performance, he observed her reaction to the music. She tapped her fingers to the beat, and had a lovely smile on her face. He realized that it was quite pleasant to look at her.

The shuttle home was rather crowded and there was no opportunity to speak. As he walked her back to her quarters, she broke the companionable silence.

"Spock, I'm thinking of going to the beach tomorrow. Would you care to join me?"

He considered her invitation. In truth he'd planned to catch up on some reading before his weekly chess game with Chris. But he determined he found her company pleasant and her conversation stimulating. He accepted.

"Great" she said, "I'll pack us a lunch." They had reached her door. "Meet me here at 11?"

"I look forward to it," he answered. "Goodnight Leila."

"Goodnight, Spock."

Chris called him the next morning just as Spock was finishing his breakfast.

"So?"

"I assume you are inquiring as to the result of my activities last night."

"C'mon Spock. How'd it go?"

"She invited me to go to the beach with her today."

"Good. Good. Did you kiss her?"

"No, I did not."

"Well, make sure you do it today."

"Chris, I hardly think..."

"Trust me."

Spock rang for entrance at Leila's quarters. He'd brought a bottle of light white wine, since Leila was preparing lunch.

The door slid open and she shouted "Come on in," from somewhere inside. He followed her voice to the small kitchenette.

"Hi!" she said brightly.

"Good morning, Leila."

"I'm almost done packing," she said.

"May I assist? I brought wine..."

"Oh, how thoughtful!" She took the wine from him and found a spot for it in the thermal carrybag. Spock was impressed with her efficient packing. She zipped the bag and put the strap on her shoulder.

"Allow me," he said, taking the carrybag.

"Thank you." She grabbed a blanket and her beach bag. "Well, shall we?

"Yes."

They headed for the shuttle.

"I had a call from Chris this morning," she began.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Indeed. Chris has been busy this morning."

"You too?" she laughed. "He seems like a good friend."

"He is. As my advisor, he helped me acclimate to Earth. As my commanding officer he has been a most respected mentor. I value him greatly."

"That is high praise coming from a Vulcan."

"Half-Vulcan. And I only state the facts."

"Half-Vulcan?"

"Yes, my mother is human."

"I had no idea."

"Few people do." he said. "Ah, here is the shuttle."

They maneuvered onto the crowed transport. There was only one seat left and he led her to it. As the shuttle moved forward, he wondered why he had spoken so candidly about his friendship with Chris. And why would he discuss so private a matter as his parentage with a relative stranger?

The shuttle arrived and they made their way through the sand to a relatively uncrowded portion of the beach. In the distance they could see the Golden Gate Bridge. Leila shook out and positioned the blanket and Spock put down the carrybag and his towel. As he stood he saw Leila removing her outer garments to reveal her red bikini. A very small red bikini. Spock successfully fought the physical manifestation of his appreciation. Barely.

She turned to him with a teasing grin. "Want to go for a swim?"

He nodded, removed his outer clothes and followed her to the water.

He watched as she ran to the water's edge, noting the delicious jiggle of her curves. He soon joined her in the water and, both strong swimmers, they headed out into the ocean.

When they had gone a good distance from the shore, they stopped.

"Oh! I love ocean swimming!" She laughed breathlessly.

"It is very invigorating," he agreed.

She paddled closer to him. "What is it like for you, to swim in an ocean when there are none on your homeworld?"

He looked at her. Her eyes were shining with delight, her breath heavy from exertion.

"It is very liberating," he said. His eyes lingered longer than necessary. He finally looked to the shore. "We should get back."

"Yes, I'm starved."

They dried themselves off and Leila unpacked the lunch she prepared. He found the cups and corkscrew and served the wine as she prepared plates of pasta with grilled vegetables, fruit salad, cheese, and crackers.

"I hope you like it." she said. "There's not too much room to get creative in those little kitchens on campus."

"It is very good. Thank you for the meal."

She lifted her cup of wine and he did the same. "To friends," she said.

"Friends," he repeated, and sipped the wine, never taking his eyes from hers.

She blushed. "So, Spock, do you swim here often?"

"No. I seldom come to the beach."

"Why not? With your strength, ocean swimming seems to suit you."

"It is more convenient to use the Academy pool."

"True, but don't you want that liberating feeling more often?"

He cocked is head slightly, not fully understanding. "I do not believe it is necessary," he said honestly.

It was her turn to look confused.

Spock finished his meal and fumbled under his towel. He pulled out a padd.

"Leila, will you be offended if I do some reading?"

She laughed, riffled through her bag and pulled out a padd of her own. His eyebrow jumped up at the sight, and he gave her an almost-grin.

"What's yours?" she asked.

"Proposed schematics for starship hydroponics and cartography labs. And yours?"

"Optimal conditions for Terran crop pollination in alien environments."

"Christopher would be disappointed," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"I won't tell if you won't," she grinned.

During the trip back they shared some of the highlights from their reading. They arrived at Leila's door all too soon.

"I've had a wonderful time with you today, Spock."

"It was most enjoyable," he concurred.

She placed her hand on the door's sensor. "Would you care to come in?"

"Thank you, yes."

He followed her in, and helped her unpack and clean the dishes. As they moved about the small kitchen space their hands touched. Leila gasped at her error, and at the pleasant tingling sensation his touch left behind. "I'm so sorry!"

"No apology is necessary. I am in no discomfort. Are you well? Sometimes the contact can be disconcerting."

"I am very well," she looked up at him and he couldn't seem to tear his eyes from her face. She stepped in closer, and when he didn't move away, stood on her toes and kissed him. He felt her arms around his neck, and he placed his hand at the small of her back and moved her closer still. Their kiss deepened.

He pulled away, needing the parameters clear.

"May I assume you are interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with me?"

Surprised at his bluntness, she said "Yes, Spock, I suppose I am." She smiled.

"And given the short period of your stay here, am I to infer that you are interested in physical intimacy as opposed to a more emotional liaison?"

She blushed. "Well, not purely physical, but no, nothing permanent."

It had been 2 years, 4 months, and 14 days since he last had an intimate encounter with a female. And that had been more of necessity than desire. Perhaps Chris had been correct to arrange this.

He kissed her back.

Soon her back was against the refrigerator, and her hands were pulling at his shirt. He stepped back, breathing heavily, and removed the offending garment himself. She led him to her room, shedding her t-shirt on the way. They stood at the bed and he reached behind her to untie her bikini. As it fell to the floor, his hands and mouth replaced it.

Soon, clothes were scattered about the floor, sheets were strewn, hands and mouths exploring. The room was filled with the scents and sounds of their pleasure. He had never been with anyone with whom he had an intellectual connection. He resisted the urge to meld with her, but he opened his mental shields slowly, slightly, filtering what they shared. It was more than enough. He felt her pleasure clearly, and she his. In moments they both fell over the edge into ecstatic release.

In the weeks that followed, Spock enjoyed his time with Leila: their discussions, the evenings spent listening to music, the lovemaking. But soon he grew increasingly troubled. There was an imbalance somehow. Leila seemed to think that all his free time should be spent with her. She had taken to touching him in public. She did not seem to want to hear his objections to this behavior.

He dropped his mental shields only slightly during their more intimate moments—a physical sharing as opposed to an emotional one—and he could not use a deeper meld to ascertain the depth of her feelings. That was not the nature of their relationship.

One night, things became very clear. She had agreed that the two of them would go on an outing with another couple without asking him. She became angry at him for not wanting to go.

"Are you ashamed of being seen in public with me, Spock?"

"Of course not, Leila."

"Then what is it?"

He hesitated. This was all new to him and he was unsure of how to proceed.

"You have become increasingly...demonstrative of late. I am Vulcan, and am therefore uncomfortable showing affection in public."

"You are half-Vulcan. Hasn't the last month brought out at least some of your human side?"

"My emotional composition does not consist of 'sides,'" he calmly explained.

"I sometimes wonder if you have any emotional composition at all," she snapped.

He paused and sat. "Leila, when we embarked on this relationship, we agreed that with so short a time, we would not pursue emotional involvement. But now..."

She was pacing. "But now the woman you're entangled with goes off and falls in love with you and ruins everything, is that it?" she yelled.

Love. That was the answer, the imbalance he felt. He did not, could not love her. Attraction and respect, yes, but love... He sat silent, unable to think of what to say that would not further hurt her.

She stood before him. "Spock, I was one of those girls at the Academy who sighed when you walked by. Then I show up here and your best friend sets us up! How perfect was that? I know what we agreed in the beginning. But things changed!" She threw her hands up. "I love you Spock, and I can't help it." She looked at him, waiting for him to speak, her eyes almost wild.

"I cannot give you what you seek," he said quietly. "I did not intend to hurt you, but I simply cannot..."

She took a deep breath and dried her tears, attempting calm. After a moment, she spoke again. "It's not your fault, Spock. I'm the one who took a grown-up relationship and twisted back into a schoolgirl's crush." She sat next to him, then wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to kiss him. When did not respond, she whispered, "Can't we go back? Go back to the day we went to the beach?"

Her proximity disturbed him. He was confused, uncomfortable. "I do not know," he said. "I need...I think I need..."

She stopped him. "I should leave," she said abruptly. She stood and gathered her things. "Perhaps we can talk tomorrow?" He nodded, roused himself and walked her to the door.

"Goodnight, Leila."

"Goodbye, Spock."

He immediately lit a candle and incense and began his evening meditation.

Spock arrived at work the next day refreshed with his mind clear. He wished to remain in a relationship with Leila for the time they had left, but he realized that, given her feelings, it may not be fair to her. He had decided to leave it to her to choose.

He was in a lengthy meeting all morning. At lunch, when he hadn't heard from her, he decided to contact her after work. She'd left so suddenly last night, he hadn't had a chance to compose his thoughts.

His afternoon was spent taking a fine tooth comb to some code designed for a program in cartography. It was the type of work he found soothing. When he left for the day, there had still been no word from Leila, so he started home to contact her.

As he left his office, Chris hailed him.

"Hello, Chris."

"Hey Spock, I heard about Leila. Figured you might want to go get a drink."

"What do you mean?"

"About the expedition to Omicron Ceti III being moved a month earlier. At least she'd gotten the data she needed from us; she'll just have to analyze it all elsewhere."

"Has she left?"

"Yes, about 1400 hours." It suddenly hit him. "Spock, you didn't know."

He shook his head. She had made her decision after all.

"I believe I will accept that offer of a drink."

The captain put a fatherly hand on his shoulder, and led the way to the bar.


	3. Flying Away

**Chapter 3: Flying—Away**   


Spock sat at his desk, grading papers. It was exactly 15:21. In approximately five minutes he would have a visitor.

He did not need to neaten his office; everything was always in its place. And yet he looked around the purely functional space, just to be certain. He returned to his grading.

The door chimed. "Enter," he called.

He did not look up as a young woman stepped through the door. "Good afternoon, Cadet Uhura."

He heard an exasperated sigh. "How do you _do_ that?" The young graduate student laughed and flopped into the chair in front of his desk.

He completed grading the paper before him and set it aside. He looked at her. "I have only 17 students who regularly take advantage of my office hours. I know your schedules. It is, therefore, not difficult to ascertain which of you will visit and when."

That was not entirely true. He knew _her_ schedule. He also knew the sound of her footsteps and the scent she wore. He reasoned that she was his most promising student; of course he would take an interest.

She shook her head, smiling at his response. "You never cease to amaze, Commander."

He nodded his thanks for her compliment. "Well, Cadet, what puzzle do you have for me today?"

And so began their semi-regular analysis of a recent lecture or linguistics journal article or review of some communications software program, or simply a conversation in his native Vulcan. He looked forward to these discussions, finding he learned almost as much as she. She had an intelligent and curious mind united with discipline and temerity, a combination seldom seen in one so young. Not that she was so very young; she was only 3 years his junior. He found this fact by examining her profile, justifying said examination by noting it would better help him teach her. He did not take note of the fact that he'd never looked at any other student's age.

They talked until he had to leave for a departmental meeting.

Her shoulders slumped. "I wanted to pick your brain about Pache's latest paper on psycholinguistics amongst telepathic races," she said, disappointed. "I'm thinking of doing my thesis on something along those lines."

"Perhaps we can resume this discussion this evening," he suggested as she gathered her things.

She smiled hopefully. "If you don't mind . . . "

"I should be available after 18:00 hours. But that will be your dinner hour, will it not?"

"True, but we can grab something off campus."

He hesitated.

"Unless you have plans?" she asked a bit self-consciously.

"No. A meal off campus would be a welcome change from the mess hall. I will meet you at the gate at 18:15, if that is acceptable."

"Perfect. See you then."

During the staff meeting Spock's thoughts were torn between the subject at hand and his upcoming meal with Cadet Uhura. Plenty of instructors socialized with students, including him; he and Chris had become friends while the captain was his advisor. This dinner, however. . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by the department head, "What about you, Spock? Will you need assistance over the summer?"

Spock considered the matter. "Yes. And I have a few candidates in mind."

"All right then, folks, send me your student summer intern lists by close of business next Friday. That's it." The staff rose and dispersed. It was 17:34. He had 41 minutes to come up with an excuse to hire an intern.

"Cadet," Spock said as the waiter left with their orders. "What are your plans for the summer?"

"I'd planned to get a part-time job here in town, but haven't had time to look," she said with a shrug. "I'll probably just go home."

"I find I have need of assistance this summer. I will post an announcement for an internship on my netpage. I hope you will consider applying."

"Of course I will! What will we—I mean, you and the intern—be doing?"

"I have in mind some improvements to the universal translator. While I have the technical expertise, it would be prudent to have an accomplished linguist to assist me. I would like to finish the accompanying paper before the next semester begins."

The young woman's eyes were wide with excitement. "Sir, this is exactly the line of research I want to pursue! Next to getting assigned to the _Enterprise_ , this would be a dream job."

He raised an eyebrow. "The _Enterprise_? You wish to serve aboard the fleet's new flagship?"

"Who wouldn't? Exploring new sectors of space, new worlds, new languages, all with the latest technology?"

He didn't tell her he'd been selected as the _Enterprise_ 's first officer; he was not yet at liberty to do so. Nor did he tell her he had already placed her name at the top of his list of recommendations for the communications crew. He simply said, "I believe that your credentials will undoubtedly place you in contention for a position aboard the _Enterprise_. You need only maintain your grades."

"And an internship with the man who will improve the universal translator won't hurt me, either" she said with a grin.

"Indeed," he concurred.

Their meals arrived and they spoke more about the internship.

"Sir, if I do get the position, will there be time for me to visit my family?"

"Yes," he said with an almost inaudible sigh. Nyota thought he was unhappy at her request.

"I only need a week or so; they won't expect anything longer . . . "

"You would have two weeks in late July. I also will be visiting family at that time."

"Hmm," she said. "You don't seem too happy about it."

"I admit I am not entirely looking forward to it."

"Is it a command performance by the parents?"

"No. While I look forward to spending time with my mother, my father and I . . . "

"Understood," she said, not wishing to pry further. "Well, I hope you have a great time with your mom. And you can restock all that delicious tea of yours I keep drinking," she added with a smile.

"I will bring some for you, since you enjoy it."

"That's very thoughtful, sir, but you are already too generous, letting me monopolize your office hours, drink all your tea, and talk your ears off." She smiled.

"Cadet, I find our discussions edifying. My ears are unharmed."

"Glad to hear it," she laughed. "Oooo, look at the time! I've gotta get back and put the finishing touches on a paper for a very particular professor of mine. Hard grader, nothing ever gets past him. Care to guess who that might be?"

"I shall not endeavor to guess. However, it is obviously an exceptional and intelligent individual."

She laughed, but stopped as she saw him paying the bill. "Sir, please let me cover my half."

He was confused at her expression of concern. "May I ask why?"

"Well, I'm the one who dragged you out here in the first place," she said in a low voice. "Plus, just in case anyone saw us, we don't want it to look like a date or anything."

"Ah, I see your point."

They paid the bill and headed for the shuttle in silence. He reflected on Nyota's words. It was not a date. He had never been on a date that was so free from tension. Nyota was never uncomfortable around him, never reserved in the face of his differentness. She was one of the few humans who understood his brand of humor, and even felt comfortable enough around him to tease.

"Commander, may I ask a personal question?" Nyota asked as they boarded the shuttle back to the campus.

"You may."

"What do you do when you're not working? I mean for relaxation or enjoyment."

"I play chess with some of my colleagues; I listen to and play music . . . "

"I had no idea you were musical! A man after my own heart! What do you play?"

"The _ka'athyra_. Are you familiar with the instrument?"

"I've seen images of it but have never heard it played."

"I would be happy to demonstrate it for you, if you are interested."

"I would really enjoy that. Thank you."

It did not occur to him that he had never before volunteered to play for anyone. He was trying not to notice how her eyes sparkled when she smiled up at him.

"And you sing," he said quietly.

She looked pleasantly surprised. "How did you know?"

"I saw your performance at the holiday program. The duet was particularly impressive."

"Thank you. I had no idea you were there. You should have said something."

"I left after the performance. I am not fond of crowds."

They arrived at the campus and walked toward the resident quarters.

"Cadet, may I ask why you inquired about my leisure activities?"

"Well, _if_ I get the internship, we'll be working on a relatively empty campus. I thought that if we had any interests in common, we could do things outside of work."

They reached the student dorms. "Well, Cadet, if you earn the internship, it appears we will have plenty of common interests to fill our time."

"Yes, sir. Well, here's home. Goodnight, Commander."

"Goodnight." He turned to head for the instructor's quarters, considering their conversation. If he had turned to look behind him, he would have seen Nyota looking after him, with a knit brow.

On the day before intern assignments were due to his department head, Spock considered the applications before him. He had been correct in assuming there would be few applicants, and no matter how he weighted the various attributes of each, Cadet Uhura came out ahead each time.

He sent a personal message to those not chosen, a note to his department head indicating his choice, and then a note of congratulations to Uhura. He was looking forward to summer.

Graduation ceremonies and celebrations were over. The campus swiftly emptied of its students and much of the staff. Spock sat at his desk, arranging padds in order of priority and did not pause even as he heard familiar footsteps approaching his door. He looked up as the door slid open, and noted Nyota's look of surprise.

"You keyed the door to give me access," she said, her hand still on the panel.

"Of course. You work here."

She tried not to smile as she entered the room and stood at attention. "Cadet Nyota Uhura, reporting for duty, sir."

"At ease, Cadet." He rose and indicated a small desk and chair at the other end of the room. "Your station," he said.

She could barely contain her excitement as she approached the desk and put her bag on the floor.

"Thank you, sir, for this opportunity."

"You have earned it, Cadet. Tea?"

"Yes, please," she said, grinning broadly.

He went to the small table holding the tea, kettle, and cups.

"What are we doing today, sir?" she asked as she sat and turned on her terminal.

"I have sent you the basic parameters of my research thus far. Please review the document and give me your opinion on the theories posited. I will then narrow or broaden the scope accordingly, and we will determine how best to proceed." He placed her cup of tea on her desk, and returned to his seat with his own cup. He picked up a padd, but did not read it at once. He looked at her, her back to him as she accessed the files at her desk.

This was as he wished it to be. He was content. He did not ask himself why.

The mess hall served only a bare-bones breakfast and lunch over the summer. Nyota had to make due with the flash heater and small fridge in the dorm for dinners. She complained of this fact one afternoon, and it gave Spock the opening he'd searched for.

"Cadet, perhaps you would join me for dinner this evening."

"Commander, I wasn't fishing for an invitation . . . "

"I did not think you were. This meal, however, would be a celebration. Our preliminary results have caught the attention of the Interplanetary Association for Communication and Cultural Exchange. We are invited to the IACCE Symposium in Paris to present our final results in August."

Her eyes were wide. "What? I had no idea you had submitted that first batch of data."

"I did not wish to 'get your hopes up'. Additionally, I have come to understand that humans enjoy surprises..."

"Ohmagod! Oh, Commander!" she jumped up, thrilled "Congratulations, sir! Paris, _France_?"

"Yes, Cadet, France. Does this mean you will accompany me to a celebratory meal?"

"Yes, sir!" she said bouncing, in her seat.

It was some minutes before she was calm enough to resume work, but as he reminded her that they had much more research and experimentation to do before they'd be prepared for the presentation, she quickly re-focused, with only the occasional exclamation of "Paris!"

That evening, they went to a little restaurant with a view of the ocean. Spock ordered a bottle of Bajoran spring wine. He tried not to dwell on the way her cheeks flushed after a glass of that wine, or on the music of her laughter. He tried to ignore the way her eyes shone, and the way she spoke with her beautiful hands when she was excited. But he couldn't help but notice how proud she was of being a part of the research team and, he realized, how proud she seemed to be of him.

He listened with upturned lips as she spoke of Paris, of the things she wanted to see and do while there, how she looked forward to speaking French again, how she intended to drag him to various museums and historical sites.

It gratified him to know that he had some part in bringing the joy she expressed. He was content. He was more than content. If he were human, he realized, he might have said he was happy.

Their work went well. Nyota was a thorough researcher and despite her unfamiliarity with some of the more technical aspects of Spock's work, often anticipated his needs.

One evening, they were so engrossed in their work that neither realized how late it was getting until Nyota's stomach growled.

"Cadet, you have not eaten."

"Yes, I did. I had an apple earlier."

"That was several hours ago. Come." He stood and turned off his terminal.

"Sir, I think it's too late to get anything in town."

"We are not going to a restaurant. We are going to my quarters."

"Sir, that's very kind, but you don't have to . . . "

"Yes, I do. You have been working for more than 15 hours at my behest. I have plenty of food and we both need sustenance."

She nodded, turned off her terminal, and gathered her things and followed him.

They arrived at his quarters, and she looked about curiously. The space was neat and efficiently arranged, of course, but with surprising splashes of color and an unexpected hominess.

He asked her to assist him by getting the plates and cutlery. He went to the refrigerator and pulled out two large containers and a jug of water. He placed them on the small dining table. She sat and he served the roasted vegetables with couscous, and a 7-bean salad.

After he was seated, Nyota took a bite. "Mmm! You'll make someone a great wife someday," she grinned.

He raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"You cook. A man who can cook is highly prized."

"I see," he said with slightly upturned lips. "I am glad you approve of my culinary skills."

She returned her attention to her food, and mumbled, "Very much, Commander."

"Miss Uhura, we are off-duty and you are in my home. Please call me Spock."

"Nyota," she said softly.

"Nyota," he repeated as if testing the sound in his mouth.

She appeared to shiver. His quarters were very warm; it could not be the temperature.

"Are you well?" he asked.

"Very well," she smiled, "just a little tired."

"Would you care for tea?"

"Yes, si . . . Spock"

She helped him clean up the dinner things and pulled the cups from a cabinet.

"Please have a seat in the living room," he told her. "I will bring the tea shortly."

He found her standing before a large portrait on his wall. "Is this your mother?" she asked as he set the tea tray on the coffee table.

"Yes."

"Spock, she's beautiful! You have her eyes."

He sat in a chair and poured the tea. She took a seat on the sofa. When she took up her cup to drink, she saw his _ka'athyra_ on its stand against the opposite wall.

He followed her eyes.

"Will you play tonight?" she asked, hopeful.

"It is late. Another time."

"I tell you what," she said, "Let me cook for you sometime this week, and you play the _ka'athyra_ for me. Deal?"

"I accept your proposal."

They finished their tea and he escorted her home. They walked in silence. When they arrived at her dorm, she looked up at him and seemed about to say something. She suddenly shook her head and said, "Goodnight, Spock. Thanks for dinner." She quickly turned away and ran up the steps.

A few days later, she arrived at his quarters with her arms full of groceries. She banned him from his own kitchen, and he sat on his sofa, reading, while she sang softly as she prepared their meal. As they ate the traditional Kenyan dishes, she spoke fondly of her home and family, and asked him about his.

He surprised himself, telling her about his less-than-pleasant childhood on Vulcan, his long-standing disagreement with his father, his cousins on Earth. Something somewhere in the corner of his mind objected to his sharing such private information. He found no trouble ignoring it.

They cleaned up the kitchen, made the tea, and Nyota sat on the sofa as he took up his _ka'athyra_ and tuned it.

He did not look at her as he played. He focused on the music he plucked from the strings. Playing, to him, was another form of meditation, and he soon lost himself to the soothing vibrations.

He finished the piece, took a deep breath, and placed the _ka'athyra_ upon its stand. He looked at Nyota. Her eyes were full.

"Spock," she breathed, "that was . . . To say that was beautiful, moving, powerful . . . all understatements." She wiped her eyes.

He nodded. "I am gratified."

"Thank you for sharing that with me," she said, putting her cup down. "I...I should go now," she rose.

Spock was disappointed. He had hoped she would stay longer.

"Shall I accompany you?"

"No, it's still light. But thank you. Goodnight."

"Thank you for the meal, Nyota. Goodnight."

She smiled and left him staring at the closed door.

Two, sometimes three times a week they had meals in Spock's quarters. With the campus empty except other staff and interns with similar arrangements, no one looked askance at her frequent presence there.

They traded books, often sitting for hours reading in his living room in silence. Sometimes she sang as he accompanied her. On weekends, they toured museums and galleries, or watched vids in town. They attended almost all of the performances in the summer concert series. It was on their return trip from one of the concerts, six days before their vacation, that Spock noticed something wrong.

"Nyota," he said, concerned, "You are very quiet this evening. Are you unwell?"

"Hmm? No, I'm fine Spock."

"Is there something troubling you?"

She sighed and looked through the window of the shuttle. "To be honest, yes, there is something on my mind." She turned to him with a tired smile. "But it's nothing that a couple of weeks at home resting won't cure. I just need a break."

"We have been working a great deal. I hope I have not asked too much of you . . . "

"No, Spock." She patted his sleeved arm. "It's more of an emotional break that I need. I'll be right as rain when we get back."

For the remainder of the week, Nyota declined his invitations to dinner, and issued none of her own. She claimed laundry and packing and fatigue. He was at a loss. He desired her presence. The hours spent alone in his quarters were unsatisfactory. When he offered to accompany her to the international shuttle station, she declined, saying he had to prepare for his own trip.

"Nyota," he stopped her as she left his office to leave for her flight, "Have I done something to offend you? I do not wish to part like this. Our . . . our friendship is important to me."

She turned and searched his face. Something in her own countenance brightened a little. "Spock, you have never done anything to upset or offend me in all the time I've known you. I know I haven't been myself this last week. I'll be better when I get back. I promise."

He nodded, unable to find words for the situation. He simply watched as she retrieved her bag. "Goodbye, Spock, have a good vacation." She was gone.

Spock's three days aboard the commercial transport to Vulcan were tedious. Meditate. Walk. Eat. Sleep. Mediate. Meditate to control the impatience. Meditate to control the confusion. Meditate to control the _something_ he could not, would not name.

At last, he was transported from the ship onto the path leading to his parents' home, his bag slung over his shoulder. It was midmorning, and he hoped that he would find his mother alone. He climbed the steps two at a time, not caring who saw his unseemly haste. He entered, nodding at household staff as he made his way to his mother's rooms. He found her in her study.

"Spock!" She rose to greet him.

"Mother." They were alone in the room. He allowed her to embrace him, and surprised them both when his own arms surrounded her shoulders.

She looked up at him. "Spock, what is it?"

She regarded her son, felt the unfamiliar emotions through her parental bond, and hugged him closer. "I see . . . " she said with a sad smile. "Sit. Tell me everything."

* * *


	4. Flying Home

**Home**

At 08:54 on the first day back at work, Spock rose from his chair and turned on the kettle. He retrieved a simply-wrapped package from his desk and placed it on Nyota's. The kettle boiled. He put loose tea leaves into the pot and poured the hot water, covering it to steep. He resumed his seat and waited.

Soon familiar footsteps approached and the door opened.

"Good morning, Commander," Nyota said with a smile.

"Welcome back, Cadet. You appear well-rested."

"I am, sir, thank you." He watched her as she approached her desk, and was gratified by her look of surprise when she saw the package.

She looked back at him. "For me?"

"It would appear so."

She unwrapped it, smiling. There was a wooden box, intricately carved. He heard her gasp as she opened it to find ten small tins of various Vulcan tea blends surrounding a black teapot adorned with red hand-painted flowers and four matching cups. She ran her fingers across the cool ceramic.

"Oh, Spock!" she whispered. "Sir, these are the most beautiful...thank you. You really shouldn't have."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a small package and handed it to him. "This seems quite paltry next to your gift."

He opened it to find a small box of tea. "The tea is grown locally and the blend is an old family recipe," she explained. "I make it whenever I'm home."

"You prepared this?"

"Yes, sir."

"I am honored," he said, regarding the box a little longer than necessary. After a moment, he rose to prepare their own tea.

He handed her the cup, rather than placing it on her desk as usual. She tried not to touch him, but grabbing the handle without doing so was impossible. She apologized, and he assured her there was no need. He sat behind his desk with his own cup, and watched her as she sipped the fragrant blend, closed her eyes and sighed. She thanked him with a smile, and then asked about his holiday. He muttered words like "adequate" and "restful," all the while attempting to return his heart and breathing rates to normal.

They settled in to work.

* * *

The paper was finished, reworked, and edited. The presentation was created and rehearsed. They were packed and on their way to the commercial shuttle station, or so Nyota thought.

"Spock," Nyota stopped. "Shuttle station's that way," she pointed behind her.

"I am aware of its location."

"Then where are we...Oh!"

"Because this is an academy-related event, we have the use of one of the shuttles."

She bounced like an excited child as they approached the hangar. Spock turned in their flight plan and received the codes for their assigned shuttle. Nyota tried and failed to hide her grin.

They entered the shuttle and stowed their bags. Nyota had taken basic shuttle training and assisted him with the flight check. When they were cleared by the flight deck, Spock stood and indicated she should take the helm. She stared at him open-mouthed.

"Spock, I haven't...I've only worked the simulators!"

"I am a qualified flight instructor and you have the requisite number of hours for flight training. Please take your station," he said with an almost-smile.

She grinned and took the pilot's chair. "I could hug you, Spock," she said as she double-checked the readings. "Any more surprises like this and you'll need to be prepared for random displays of excessive emotion."

"I appreciate the prior warning."

"Okay, ready?"

He nodded.

"Here...we...GO!"

Her take-off was a little wobbly, and her acceleration a bit tentative. But once she got the shuttle in the air, they were quickly on course and reaching cruising altitude. She let out a "Woo-HOO!"

"Well done, Nyota," he said.

"I did it!"

"Indeed."

She sat looking pleased with herself as she checked their heading. Her face fell slightly. "I could kill for a cup of tea," she said. "I didn't think to bring any..."

"I believe you will find some in the galley," he said, taking over the controls and adjusting their course. She stood and went to the tiny closet of a kitchen and found not only tea, but a full lunch in thermal containers. She shook her head with a smile. "Spock, you think of everything," she peeked out. "Tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

They sipped their tea and reviewed their notes for their presentation the next day. Spock then prepared their lunch plates as Nyota monitored the controls.

"Spock, would you mind if I put on some music?"

"Not at all."

She downloaded a few songs from her music player and soon music filled the cabin.

Spock tilted his head. "I am unfamiliar with this musical genre."

"It's Yann Tiersen, a 21st century artist from France. I thought it would put us in the mood for Paris. Do you like it? If not, I can change it."

Spock listened for a moment more. "No, it is appropriate and interesting music. Please, let it continue."

They took turns at the helm. As they neared Paris at twilight, Spock took over. Nyota was beside herself gazing over the city as they descended.

He landed at the shuttle port and they took the local transport to the Grand Hotel St Michel. Nyota took in the sights with awe, pointing out the Luxembourg Gardens and the Pantheon. They checked into the hotel and received their conference materials, then took the lift to their rooms.

They had a suite with identical bedrooms on opposite sides of a large sitting room that looked out over the Sorbonne, where the symposium would take place. Nyota looked out at the view as Spock took his bags to his rooms. She was still at the window when he returned. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Nyota, what troubles you?"

She quickly wiped her eyes and laughed. "Happy tears, Spock. I just can't believe we're really here, in a suite in one of the best hotels in the most beautiful city on the planet. I piloted a shuttle today, and tomorrow I'll give my first academic paper at the _Sorbonne_!" She turned to him with a smile. "I warned you about random displays of excessive emotion."

"You did indeed. Does this mean I must prepare to be hugged?" he asked with a lift of his eyebrow.

"I'm afraid it does," she said with mock solemnity. But then she threw her arms around him and whispered, "Thank you thank you thank you."

"It is not my doing, Nyota. You earned this," he said quietly as he held her, tentatively stroking her hair. He was reeling inside.

She nodded against his chest. "But you helped. And I am grateful. For your being such a generous mentor, for your friendship, for…you." She pulled away, laughing now, wiping her tears. "Don't mind me. It's all just hitting me, I guess. What I need is a shower and a nap."

"Perhaps that is wise."

They arranged for him to wake her for dinner, and they went to their separate rooms, she for a hot shower and sleep, and he for a colder one and meditation.

* * *

The next morning they went for an early run in the Luxembourg Gardens, showered, changed, and headed for the opening breakfast at the symposium. After the keynote speaker, they went their separate ways to attend different lectures.

Their presentation was scheduled for 2:00 pm. They ate a light lunch together and found their way to the designated lecture hall. They set up their visuals, tested the microphones, and consulted with the Association member introducing them.

Nyota had no time for the butterflies threatening her stomach. They were on. She described their application of cognitive and neurolinguistics to the program while Spock summarized the programmatic algorithms and demonstrated the results. The presentation received an enthusiastic response from the audience and they took a several questions. Suddenly, it was over.

As they made their way back to the hotel, they discussed some of the more pertinent questions they received, what presentations they'd attend the next two days of the symposium, and whether there would be time for sightseeing.

When they entered the suite, Nyota flopped down on the sofa. "What time is it?"

"1645 hours," he replied.

"Can we order room service for dinner?"

"No. I am afraid I have made other arrangements."

She looked up, surprised. "What arrangements?"

"I thought that a celebratory dinner would be in order after the successful conclusion of our research and presentation thereof. We have 1 hour 11 minutes before we must leave."

She sat up, suddenly less tired. "Sir, being here is reward enough. You didn't have to go to any trouble…"

"It was no trouble, Nyota. I simply made reservations."

"Sir, sometimes…." She seemed to think better of whatever she was about to say. She shook her head and smiled graciously. "Alright, Spock. I will see you in an hour and whatever minutes." She stood and headed for her room.

"Nine," he supplied, before she closed the door.

He took a deep breath and headed for his room to prepare. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that his exceptional hearing did not register the "Ohmagod, Ohmagod, Ohmagod," coming from the other room.

* * *

" _Mother," he said straining to keep the emotion from his voice. They were alone in his mother's study. He allowed her to embrace him, and surprised them both when his own arms encircled her shoulders._

 _She looked up at him. "Spock, what is it?"_

 _She regarded her son, felt the turmoil of unfamiliar emotions through her parental bond, and hugged him closer. "I see . . . " she said with a sad smile. "Sit. Tell me everything."_

 _When he couldn't find the words, she took his hand and raised it to her temple. He nodded, took a deep breath, and careful not to overwhelm her with the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him, initiated the meld._

 _Amanda steeled herself for the flood of information entering her consciousness. There…a face, a smile, laughter, intelligence, music, an angelic voice. Then Spock showed his mother the effect these images had on him. She saw the colors this young woman evoked in her son's soul. Finally, he showed her the barriers keeping her from the girl; Starfleet Academy regulations, T'Pring, his father._

 _She sat back and opened her eyes as Spock released her. Her mind worked quickly. There was much to do, and she was pleased to be of some service to her son in this. She took her son's hand, and smiled. "Here's what we're going to do. . . ."_

Spock stepped out of the shower, remembering his mother's advice. It was she who gave him the idea for this evening's dinner plans; apparently Sarek had planned a similar excursion during his parent's courtship and it left a lasting impression on her. She also paved the way for him to speak to his father about Nyota. He would never have guessed that his falling for a human woman would soften the discord between them.

While his mother provided much useful advice, it was Christopher who helped him navigate the difficulties with pursuing a student at the Academy. As soon as Spock returned to Earth, he sought his mentor's advice.

" _Wait…you're telling me you want to_ initiate _a romantic relationship?" Chris seemed more pleased than concerned with regulations._

" _Yes, as I said…"_

 _Chris threw his head back and laughed. "After all these years of trying to loosen you up, trying to hook you up, and you go off the deep end and fall for a_ cadet _!" The older man smiled and shook his head. "All right, Spock, talk to me. We'll figure this out."_

And they did figure it out, although it meant waiting. Spock had never been an impatient man until now, but Chris helped focus his attention on planning the trip to Paris, organizing the shuttle use, even shopping for the clothes he wore this evening.

Spock wore a collarless suit of dark grey. The shirt was high-necked and a crisp white. It required cufflinks, and while he managed to get one of them on, he required Nyota's assistance with the other. He went to the sitting room to wait for her.

She soon emerged wearing the dress she had brought for the symposium's closing banquet. Black raw Tellurian silk with thin shoulder straps, it came to her knees but had a short train of gathered silk in the back. A shawl of the same material hung on her shoulders. She'd put her hair up in a style Spock had never seen before; a high loose bun with wavy tendrils escaping at the temples.

"You look..."

"That dress is..."

"I've never seen you..."

She laughed. "You look very nice, Spock."

"As do you. I wonder…" he held the cufflink in his open palm, "Would you assist?"

"Of course."

She walked toward him and took the platinum and onyx link. As she fastened it, he breathed in the floral scents on her hair and skin.

"There you go," she said as she finished.

He cleared his throat. "Are you ready to proceed?"

"Yes."

They took a short taxi ride to a riverside pier. Nyota stopped short.

"We're going on _that_?" She gazed at the boat before them with its glittering lights and candle-lit tables.

"Yes," he said softly. "We will have our meal and observe some of the notable sights. Is this agreeable?"

"Oh, Spock," she breathed. "You have no idea how agreeable."

He allowed himself the slightest of smiles.

The host showed them to their seats, and a waiter brought champagne. Spock lifted his glass. "To the successful conclusion of our research. Well done, Nyota." She raised her glass. It trembled in her hand.

Spock sipped his champagne, never taking his eyes from her. She looked away, blushing.

Soon the boat left the pier and they were off for a twilight cruise of the Seine. Spock relished Nyota's excitement as they passed the legendary sites of Paris. Their meals arrived and he noted that neither of them seemed to have much of an appetite. Fortunately observing the city as they sailed by eliminated the need for forced conversation.

As they neared the Eiffel Tower, Spock stood. "Shall we view it from the deck?" he asked. She rose, somewhat surprised, and followed him. They reached the deck and she looked up at the illuminated tower. "Oh Spock, this is perfect."

He turned to her. "Nyota," he said softly. She looked at him, pulling her shawl more tightly around her.

"At 1624 hours today, we concluded our presentation. You ceased to be my student and intern. I wish to change the nature of our… I would like to pursue a romantic relationship with you. Would this be acceptable?

Her eyes widened. She nodded quickly.

"Nyota," he said, concerned. "Breathe."

She let out a nervous giggle. He took a step closer and raised a hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face. His fingers burned against her skin. He leaned closer and brushed his lips against hers. When he felt her lean into the kiss he wrapped his arms around her. Soon she was against the railing; their bodies pressed together, her arms around his neck.

A sudden noise surprised them out of their embrace. Passersby on the Left bank whistled and shouted their approval. Nyota smiled and hid her face in his chest. "Come on, let's sit over here." She led the way to a bench on the starboard side. He pulled her close and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Spock, I had no idea. I mean, I sometimes thought you might be attracted to me, but figured it was all wishful thinking."

"I have always admired and respected you. I grew to value your friendship, and I sought to keep that friendship intact even when I admitted to myself that I wanted something more. Then you left for Kenya and I thought...I was..."

She squeezed his hand. "I had given up. I gave up on you feeling anything for me, especially knowing it would be impossible given the rules. I went home determined to purge you from my system. It didn't work, of course, but I came to some sort of resignation. When I got back, all I could do was try to hide my feelings from you."

"I could not speak," he said. "I was unsure of your feelings and was not at liberty to disclose mine."

The boat returned to the pier. The car waited to take them to the hotel. Once seated, she took his hand.

"You said you were unsure of my feelings. What made you risk it tonight?"

"I am afraid I took advantage of a...situation and...It was highly improper and I wish to..." He let his gaze rest on their joined hands.

"Spock, what are you talking about?"

"I...cheated. I ask your forgiveness"

"You _what_?" She asked with a grin.

"When you returned from your vacation, I…" he paused, momentarily unwilling to divulge his un-Vulcan-like actions. "I touched your hands. Intentionally. I should not have done so without your permission. But I ..."

Her eyes registered her comprehension. "The tea! My first morning back."

He nodded. "Under normal circumstances I would never have presumed...but I found I must know in what light you regarded me."

"Ah, Spock…" She forgave him with a kiss.

The car reached the hotel, and they boarded the lift to their rooms. She slipped her hand into his as the lift doors closed. As soon as they entered the suite, he pulled her close, kissing her forehead, her temple, the smooth, soft flesh of her cheek, her lips.

She walked backwards, stopping when the back of her legs hit the sofa, where they fell in an undignified tangle. She giggled as they situated themselves, drawing a ghost of a smile from Spock. But he grew serious as he drew her into his arms.

"I wish to be clear, Nyota. I am not seeking a casual relationship."

She regarded him, the depth of his statement sinking in. "Nor am I," she answered with the same intensity, and pulled his face to hers.

Their kisses deepened, growing more urgent as their hands began roaming, exploring. Before matters progressed further, Spock reluctantly sat up, bringing her with him. He kissed her forehead. "It is late, you should get some rest. Tomorrow is a long day."

She sighed. "You're right.

She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Wonderful! Well…" she stood, but he caught her hand before she could walk away. "What is it?" she asked as he stood.

"I believe it is customary for a gentleman to escort a lady to her door after a first date."

She smiled as she wrapped her arms around him. "And what a first date it was! Spock, I had an amazing time. You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet." She stood on her toes and kissed him.

"I am gratified that you found the evening pleasant," he whispered, holding her close.

"Mmm," she murmured into his chest. "'Pleasant,' my dear Commander, is the greatest understatement…ever."

They reluctantly released each other. "Goodnight, Nyota, sleep well."

"You too. See you in the morning."

* * *

He lay in bed, the cool sheets making him shiver in his Starfleet-issue sleep shorts and tee-shirt. The lights from the city made the room seem to glow. He stared at the ceiling, almost unable to fully believe what had just happened. She accepted his suit! There were no barriers to keep them apart—no T'Pring, no parental disapproval, no Academy regulations. What he had longed for had become reality, and he shivered thinking of her kisses.

He sat up. Sleep would not come easily this night and he considered turning on the light to read. No, he thought, meditation would be a better use of his time.

There was a soft tap at the door.

"Spock?" Nyota asked quietly. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, come in."

She opened the door and stood, slightly embarrassed in her Academy pajamas. "I couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I."

"Could I…I mean…I'm not ready for…I just wondered…"

He lifted the covers, and she climbed into the bed. He fitted himself next to her in a perfect spoon and kissed the top of her head. He held her as her breathing and heart rate slowed. He sighed, content, and drifted into sleep.


	5. A Star to Guide Me

**A Star to Guide Me**

With only two weeks until the start of fall term, Nyota started her hastily-arranged new assistantship the morning after they returned from Paris. Her days and many late evenings were spent in the linguistics lab with another professor.

Spock was busy preparing his lectures for the coming term, as well as working with Captain Pike reviewing applications for department heads aboard the _Enterprise_. They had hardly any time to spend together, and what little time they had alone was usually spent working in his quarters.

The campus was slowly filling with new recruits, returning students, and faculty. Spock walked across the campus and realized that the quiet of summer would soon be replaced by the non-stop activity of the new academic year. The privacy required for a discreet relationship would be severely curtailed.

He stopped on the path back to his quarters. Something must be done. He pulled out his communicator and made a call.

* * *

That evening, he opened his door to a yawning Nyota. "Spock, if I'm this tired before term even begins, I'm going to be a basket case by the autumn break!"

He lifted her carrybag from her shoulder and guided her to his dining room table. "The pre-term rush will soon be over," he said. "Your schedule will settle into a more feasible routine."

"You're right, I know. But right now it feels like I'm running a 10K on nothing but fumes." She yawned again as he set their dinner on the table.

"I wonder," he said as they began their meal, "Would you care to join me on a short excursion next weekend?"

"Next weekend? Term starts on Monday…"

"Yes. And this will be our last opportunity to spend a significant amount of time together before Autumn Break."

"Spock, I'd love to, but I just don't think I can finish all the translations Professor Hanso has for me on top of all the lab-prep…"

"What if I assisted you?"

"But you have your own work…"

"…most of which is complete."

She looked at him, and sensing he needed the break as much as she did, she smiled. "Where are we going?"

"It is to be a surprise. But you should pack for warm weather. And you are not to bring anything school or work related. Is that enough information to prepare?"

She picked up her glass of wine and raised it a toast. "You're on." He nodded at her acceptance, but she wasn't finished. "Do I get a hint?"

"I have already given you all the information you require. Consider it an assignment in packing for unknown conditions."

"No, I refuse to think of it as work. It's a romantic weekend getaway with my boyfriend."

His eyes shot up.

"What?" she asked with a sly smile. "You don't like the term?"

"It is inaccurate. I am no boy, and I would hope that I am more than just a 'friend' to you."

"You know very well that you are, silly." She put her fork down and rose to walk to the other side of the small table and sat in his lap and kissed him. "But there is no word in Vulcan for 'dating.'"

"True, but I am following more human courtship practices."

"So…what? I'm supposed to call you 'the guy who's courting me?'"

He kissed her. "You may call me anything you wish. I have never been anyone's 'boyfriend.'"

"Until now."

"Indeed, until now." His mouth sought hers, and their kiss lasted until she softly moaned and began squirming in his lap. He pulled back and lifted her from his lap in spite of her protestations.

"Spock," she said as he stood then bent to kiss her once more, "I'm not made of fine porcelain. I want this."

"As do I," he said, drawing her close. "But not under our various deadlines and obvious fatigue. We both have much work to do before we report for duty in the morning."

She sighed. "Sad but true. Let's clean up and get to work."

"Agreed."

The rest of the week brought even less rest and found them on conflicting schedules. On the two evenings they were able to share dinner, Nyota was fast asleep on his couch before he'd even set the table.

Friday arrived at last and, with Spock's assistance, Nyota found a short-cut to reprogram the lab computers and finished ahead of schedule. She successfully obtained early leave from Professor Hanso.

She ran to her quarters, showered, packed, excitedly adding a bright yellow surprise for Spock before zipping up her pack and leaving the dorm.

For discretion's sake, they met at the public transporter station a few blocks away from campus. Spock had almost two years' worth of transporter credits and he couldn't think of a better way to start using them.

She saw his tall frame in the crowd near their departure pad and forced herself not to run. He met her with his almost-smile and dancing eyes. It was all she could do to keep herself from throwing her arms around him.

"Are you ready?" he asked as she neared.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, practically bouncing. "Let's get out of here!"

Spock led the way to the transporter pad and when technician called them forward, Spock handed him the data chip with the coordinates. Soon they felt the tingle of the transporter beam.

They materialized on a path bordered by tall hedges covered with wildflowers.

"Oh, Spock!" she breathed. "This is lovely! Where are we?"

"Vermont. Come, the cabin is this way."

They headed up the path and rounded a corner and there stood a small, rustic building. It had a run-down look about it, and Nyota worried about the condition of the interior. Spock unlocked the wooden door with a metal key. He let Nyota enter first and he followed with his pack and their supplies. He heard her gasp in surprise at the interior.

"Spock! This is amazing! How'd you find this place?"

He decided against naming the owner and said instead it was the country home of a good friend, "who offered it for our use whenever we need to get off campus for some privacy."

"Ahha! It's Captain Pike's place, isn't it!" She laughed. "I know he'd love the woodsy location and the lumberjack look of the place. But when he's indoors, he wants every modern convenience possible."

"You have correctly identified our benefactor. Now, do you wish to unpack and rest, or perhaps to swim in the lake before dinner?"

"Swim? Lake? Where?"

"If you look through the kitchen window you will see it."

She stood on her toes and leaned over the kitchen sink to peer through the window.

"Oh, Spock this is gorgeous! And it's got a sandy beach! I can lay out with a book and then go cool off in the water. Perfect!" He accepted her kisses happily.

"I am pleased you approve. There is the bedroom," he pointed. "You may change into your swimming attire while I put our supplies away."

As she got dressed, Spock put several items in the refrigeration unit. He then packed a light dinner and gathered towels and a large blanket.

Soon she returned, wearing a stunning yellow one-piece that revealed more than it hid.

"Nyota, you…your attire…"

"You approve?"

He cleared his throat. "Very much." He took a step forward and drew her into his arms. After a languorous kiss she pulled away and ran for the door, laughing. "Come on! I want to swim!"

He took a calming breath, gathered the food and towels, and followed her to the water's edge.

She was already in the water by the time he reached the shore. He spread the blanket, placed the towels and thermal container on it, and began removing his outer clothes, unaware of Nyota's admiring gaze. His swim trunks got caught in his trousers as he pulled them down, and she got a lovely view of the curve of his buttocks before he readjusted matters. She sighed as he turned to join her in the water.

They swam to the center of the small lake, where Spock took her in his arms and kissed her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he tread the water just enough to keep them afloat.

"Spock, this is wonderful," she said between kisses. "I'm so glad we came here."

"As am I," he said, leaning in so their foreheads touched. "The sun is setting. She we watch it from the shore?"

She nodded and they swam back to the beach. She opened the thermal bag and began setting out their supper. They nibbled on the fruit and cheese and sipped the cold white wine. He then moved to sit behind her, his legs on either side and arms around her waist, and they watched the sun dip behind the mountains. He felt her sigh as the last sliver of the bright disk slipped away.

He began kissing her neck and she leaned into him. He felt her shiver as he softly ran his hands down her arms. She turned to kiss him, but her shoulder caught him in the chest. He lost his balance and they fell, Nyota laughing as she climbed on top of him, pinning his arms as she straddled him. Her laughter quieted as she saw the heat in his eyes in the dying light. She bent to take his mouth in a kiss and he strained upwards to meet her.

He rose and rolled over, pinning her now, kissing, nipping exposed flesh. His hands moved over her breasts, her nipples hardened under her still-damp bathing suit. She was writhing beneath him now, her breath coming in soft moans.

He stood, lifting her effortlessly as she gasped her surprise at finding herself in his arms. In a few long-legged strides, they were in the cabin, and a few steps more found them in the bedroom where he gently laid her on the bed. Then he was above her, kissing her face and neck.

He moved the strap of her bathing suit and kissed each shoulder as he began slowly removing the yellow garment. He took her breasts in his hands and mouth before lifting her hips to pull the suit down her legs then threw it off into a heap in the corner of the room. He knelt before her, gazing at her in admiration. Then he was above her again, moving slowly lower, feeling her anticipation with each kiss he planted on her stomach, hip, inner thigh. He parted her legs and inhaled. She shuddered as his hands and mouth explored her. Her hands moved through his hair, caressed and pulled at his ears.

He pleasured her slowly, finding an exquisite rhythm, and soon her hips shook and she keened as her orgasm took away all rational thought.

He rose and positioned himself above her. Her hands guided him and her face registered her pleasure as he slowly filled her and his languorous strokes reignited her desire. He touched her face at the meld points.

"May I…? A mental link…" He looked into her eyes and, at her nod of comprehension and consent, he initiated the meld. His thrusts quickened and they shared every sense, every moment of pleasure. Soon the overwhelming sensations took them both; their combined climax rolling in waves through their bodies, her nails in his back, his teeth at her shoulder.

He rolled to the side and gathered her in his arms as they lay gasping.

"That was the most amazing...I've never felt like that before," she declared, tears in her eyes as she savored the tingling sensations throughout her body and mind.

"Nor have I." He seemed surprised.

"You mean…you've never done the mind thing with anyone before?"

"No, never a true meld," he looked into her eyes, "and there will be no other."

She looked up at him, and clung to him tighter. His fingers grazed her face and he showed her what he could not say.

"Me too, Spock. I love you, too," she whispered, and slowly fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

She woke with a start, disoriented, but the pleasant ache between her legs reminded her that, no, she wasn't late for anything; it was the Saturday morning after the best Friday night of her life.

She reached behind her, but found she was alone in the bed.

"Nyota," Spock's voice came from a corner of the still dark room.

"Mmm. Morning. What time is it?"

"05:23." He rose from his meditation pad and sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you well?"

"I haven't slept this well in ages," she said as she stretched, then reached for him. "I love sleeping next to you."

He crawled in the bed and drew her to him. "I found my sleep enhanced by your proximity as well."

She sighed in his arms and seemed to settle back in to sleep, but he pulled away and got out of bed. "Come. I have something to show you."

She grumbled. "But I'm so comfortable!"

"It will not take long. I am certain you will be pleased, and you may sleep after."

She rose reluctantly, rifled through her pack for a long t-shirt and followed him out of the cabin. He stood behind her and pointed to a spot in the sky.

"Do you see that?" he asked.

She yawned. "What am I looking for?"

"That," he said. "The object that is moving."

"Ah, yes. What is it?"

"That is the _Enterprise_."

"Oh Spock," she breathed, "I want that ship so badly."

"I have it on good authority that your name has been submitted for consideration for a position there."

She turned around. "Ohmagod, Spock, are you serious? How? Who recommended me?"

"Your grades automatically put you on the short list; your work with the translator has placed you at the top of that list, well ahead of any competitors." Nyota was wide awake now, practically jumping up and down.

Spock continued. "There is, of course, the normal review process, but I have good reason to believe that the First Officer will include you in the final staffing recommendations for the communications department."

"Ohmagod! Really? Ohmagod!" She took a deep breath. "Wow. Well, what's next? What do I do to impress this guy?"

"There is nothing to do but maintain your grades. I assure you, he is sufficiently impressed."

"Who is it? Should I send a letter of interest? Stop by his office?"

His lips curved ever so slightly. "You should indeed visit his office. As often as possible. After hours preferably, perhaps wearing your yellow swimming suit under your uniform…" He wrapped his arms around her. She pulled back, staring at him, confused and slightly worried.

"You're kidding, right? Wait…No…You don't mean…are you telling me…You? _You're_ going to be the first officer of the _Enterprise_?"

"I am," he said, trying not to look quite so pleased.

"Uhng!" she punched him in the arm.

"Wha—?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He saw her smile and was confused. "All this time I've been mooning over that ship. And all the while—"

"Nyota, I was unable to reveal that information until now. You must understand that I very much wished to tell you."

She chuckled into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. "I know that, silly. It's just…wow. Of all the crazy, random…wow." She took his face in her hands and kissed him long and hard.

"So, Commander, what do you suggest we do now?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I believe you indicated the desire to sleep."

She kissed him again. "Oh, I have every intention of going back to _bed_ , but believe me, mister; neither of us is getting any sleep." She playfully shoved him toward the door, and he happily complied with her demands, again and again, until they fell asleep, a tangle of limbs, sated and content, as the sun rose over the Vermont mountains.

~fin~

* * *


End file.
